


35 Years

by ninja19



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:22:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninja19/pseuds/ninja19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s not quite sure what he’s thinking when he finds himself at the entrance to the bunker. His mind is swimming and he can’t seem to get his thoughts in order. It’s only partly due to the almost empty whiskey bottle in his duffel; purchased a few miles back in the hope it would give him some Dutch courage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	35 Years

Dean’s not quite sure what he’s thinking when he finds himself at the entrance to the bunker. His mind is swimming and he can’t seem to get his thoughts in order. It’s only partly due to the almost empty whiskey bottle in his duffel; purchased a few miles back in the hope it would give him some Dutch courage.

He’s been sorely disappointed, it would seem, as he jigs from one foot to the other on the doorstep, stomach tying itself in knots. He _knows_ he fucked up, okay, and he knows Sam has every right to be pissed with him, but it’s 2014, and yeah, maybe it’s been five years since Zachariah pulled that back to the future crap but the date still sends a chill through his bones.

_I haven’t talked to Sam in, hell, five years._

Wasn’t that what he learned? That being apart from Sam wasn’t good for either of them? Hell, apparently it caused the end of the world.

_More than that, we keep each other human._

Dean tries to forget about the brand scorched into his forearm.

He shakes his head a little, trying to get rid of the buzz in his head. He runs a hand through his hair. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe Sam needs some more time to cool off –

Apparently he’s been in a staring contest with the door for far too long, for the decision of whether to stay or go is suddenly wrenched out of his hands.

The door opens, light spilling out onto the doorstep. “Dean?”

The gravel in the voice is unmistakeable, and he glances up to Cas’s form, silhouetted by the light from inside. “Hey Cas.” Dean allows a smile to tug up the corners of his lips, not quite looking Cas in the eye.

Suddenly there are arms around him, squeezing him tight, and Dean’s more than a little taken aback. When has Cas ever hugged him? He recovers quickly though, and tentatively places his hands on Castiel’s back. “Woah,” he chuckles. “Pleased to see me?”

Cas pulls away from him, grinning like Dean just handed him the keys to heaven. His eyes are shining as he informs Dan, “We didn’t know how long you’d be gone. Sam’s –” he falters at the mention of the younger Winchester and looks awkwardly at Dean, telling him all he needs to know about his brother’s feelings towards him. “Sam’s completely healed.” Cas finishes lamely.

“That’s great, Cas,” Dean says, and he means it. Cas smiles and ushers him inside.

“Cas? What’s –” Dean sees Sam at the bottom of the staircase at the exact moment he sees Dean. Surprise flits over his features, before being replaced by Bitchface #97.

“Heya Sammy, I was hoping we could talk –” Sam snorts as he turns on his heel and storms away, and if that wasn’t answer enough, the resounding slam of his bedroom door is.

Dean sighs as he turns back to Cas, who is looking mildly apologetic. “Could’ve been worse, right?”

He was aiming to lighten the mood, but Cas nods seriously. “Definitely. He’s been avoiding talking about you for weeks. Last week he smashed a plate when I mentioned you, although he said it ‘slipped’. I doubt it though.”

Dean opens his mouth, shuts it again and shakes his head. “C’mon Cas,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads down the stairs, “you can fill me in on what’s been happening.”

 

* * *

 

Several hours later, Dean’s bottle of whiskey is now one hundred percent empty and his chest is feeling significantly lighter. Sam still hasn’t re-emerged from his room, but hey, he hasn’t kicked him out either, and he’s getting to spend time with Cas. Not trying-to-fix-a-horrible-mistake time either, _real_ time. Friend time.

Wow, Dean must be drunker than he thought, because he did not seriously just call this “friend time”. He snorts into his glass, and Cas’s eyebrows knit together in confusion but he doesn’t ask.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Cas,” Dean blurts out suddenly, and woah, where did that come from? He’ll be holding the dude’s hand next.

But as Cas smiles and says warmly, “Where else would I be?”, Dean can’t hold back the bubble of happiness rising through him. Because it’s Cas, and he’s an angel again, and there’s at least a million other places he could be than slumming it with the Winchesters, but he’s here, isn’t he? He’s here.

Dean grins back for longer than is probably necessary. Then he feels awkward about it, so he clears his throat and gets up from the table. “I’m gonna call it a night, Cas,” he says before heading down the hall to his room. It’s not until he’s turned around to close his bedroom door that he realises Cas has followed him. Dean stares. “Uh, hello?”

“I want to give you something, Dean,” Cas says, adding for clarification when Dean looks confused, “for your birthday.”

Dean frowns. What day is it? He got a newspaper on… Tuesday, was it? And the date was…

“Shit,” Dean mumbles, laughing at Cas’s expression. “No it’s not you, I just forgot. Me and Sammy don’t really do birthdays, y’know? And we definitely don’t do presents, and with the way things are just now I don’t really, um…” Dean tails off as Cas glares at him with that _you better not dare say something self-depreciative or I will smite you myself_ look he has. Was he always so close? Dean doesn’t remember him standing so close. “Listen, Cas, you, uh, you really didn’t need to get me anything –”

“Well, I’ve already went to the trouble,” Cas says, and then he’s kissing him. Just like that.

Dean’s brain short-circuits. Everything grinds to a halt and he doesn’t even shut his eyes, for fuck’s sake. He’s frozen, going cross-eyed from staring at the way Cas’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he presses his lips softly against Dean’s. Cas’s lips. On his. Cas’s. Cas.

Something in Dean’s heart leaps as he realises that God, this is _Cas_ kissing him, and his body is already one step ahead of him and he steps forward to press himself against Cas but Cas is pulling away much too soon.

“Happy birthday Dean,” he says quietly, and he looks so _goddamn pleased_ with himself. He turns to leave, but Dean catches him by the wrist.

“Woah, oh no you don’t.”


End file.
